


the air in your woven mouth

by djhedy



Series: Anchor [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Eating Disorders, Food Issues, M/M, POV Adam, Post-Canon, Sad, and other tags probably, i mean it's before the epilogue because cba, no one communicates, pretty much, read the other work first, set in march after the end of trk, that's sad too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-10 01:14:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18649939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djhedy/pseuds/djhedy
Summary: There’s more to talk about, and they both know it. As Adam kissed Ronan that first night, fists balling into his shirt, into the skin on Ronan’s hip, the rough texture of the couch beneath them, he felt words float up his throat. But then Ronan would nip at his ear, his neck, catch his bottom lip, and they’d float away, crowded out by Ronan.-or: they've fixed what needed mending, but forgot to talk about what's broken





	the air in your woven mouth

**Author's Note:**

> c/n: eating disorder
> 
> short follow up to 'in circles somewhere else', written for OmnisVirLupus who asked for more on Adam's problems with food  
> get ready for an angst-fest is what i'm saying  
> titles taken from "Anchor" by Novo Amor

There’s more to talk about, and they both know it. As Adam kissed Ronan that first night, fists balling into his shirt, into the skin on Ronan’s hip, the rough texture of the couch beneath them, he felt words float up his throat. But then Ronan would nip at his ear, his neck, catch his bottom lip, and they’d float away, crowded out by _Ronan_.

               The next day, Ronan pushing him out of the house as Adam ran to his car – and then running back again for his coat, and then his backpack, and finally Ronan dragging his hands through Adam’s hair, grinning against his lips, holding him firmly against the car before pulling away – and Adam gunning it to school to make first period, he remembers the words half way there.

               He slouches up to Henry and Gansey, embarrassed as Henry shouts “ _Walk of shame Parrish? I’VE NEVER BEEN SO PROUD.”_ And Gansey smiling, looking away as if that would give Adam’s rumpled clothes some privacy. Adam rolls his eyes and walks ahead of them into the building, putting on his tie and ignoring Henry’s running commentary – _do you think that’s even his tie? Maybe he took Lynch’s_ – _we use Ronan’s for other things, Cheng_ – _dear me does that constitute tmi I think his majesty’s going to have a heart attack_ – Adam’s smile hidden underneath a ducked head, worry crashing back down through his body.

               First period is English, which they all share, Adam running words through his head alongside _pay close attention to the use of imagery in this section_ , which he’s already done, jotting down notes with practised ease as his mind races through _what if it’s not enough_. He bites his lip, taps his pen against his notebook, stares out the window. When the teacher moves on from imagery to language – at this point class was predictable, and it’s one of the reasons he enjoys it, the game you could play with English Lit, the marks you could score by just hitting points a to z – he returns to his notebook, taking notes on metaphor and assonance. His brain races, thoughts slamming against each other, his fist clenching and unclenching. _What if it’s not enough._

               By lunchtime he feels empty. The uncomplicated happiness that had driven him out of the Barns, blasting Ronan’s crappy mixtape all the way to Aglionby, has drained, has left in its place something else. He doesn’t know what it is. Frustration whips through him; he shakes his head, attempts to keep track of Henry and Gansey’s conversation, trying at least to smile in the right places, doesn’t notice anything is off until Henry elbows him gently,

               “You eating that, Parrish?”

               Adam blinks at Henry. “Sorry?”

               Henry jerks a head at Adam’s plate. Gansey is staring hard at his own. Adam looks at his food. “Yeah,” he says. Picks up his fork.

               Henry and Gansey are talking about their vacation, trying to decide where to go first. “You can’t _drive_ to Europe,” Gansey says with exasperation.            

               “What’s the point of being friends with magicians if we can’t get the Pig across the Atlantic?”

               “That’s not really how it works.”

               “Oh yeah? Tell me then Richard, how _does_ it work?”

               Adam feels rather than sees Gansey falter. Henry’s body shakes with laughter.

               He pushes at his food.

               He imagines his thoughts are trees: organises them by species, by age, by how the bark feels beneath his fingertips; feels a cool breeze slowing down time; looks up through the canopy and allows himself a deep breath.

               By the end of lunch he’s had three bites of food. Feels Gansey’s eyes on his plate as the three of them stand.

               After school Henry rushes away but Gansey follows Adam to the Shitbox. “So I take it you and Lynch made up?”

               Adam doesn’t meet Gansey’s eyes, but he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. “Yeah, I guess,” he says.

               “Excellent,” Gansey pronounces, rubbing his hands together, grinning. “Let’s do something tonight. Do you have work?”

               “No. What do you want to do?”

               Gansey jerks his head and starts walking off, so Adam follows him to the Camaro. “Dinner?” Gansey says, not looking at him. “We could pick up Jane, go to Nino’s.”

               Adam’s fingers tense against bark, stilling. Scratches gently down, flattens palm against trunk. Feels the weight of a hundred years clammy against warm skin. “Sure,” he says, feeling shame at the hesitance. Gansey doesn’t say anything. They get in the car.

               “Call him,” Gansey suggests, passing over his phone, so he does.

               “ _Fucker,_ ” Ronan says down the line. It sounds like he’s saying _hello_. Adam smiles.

               “We’re going to Nino’s.”

               Ronan scoffs. “ _That’s original_.”

               “You can come or you can spend the evening alone with your bird.”

               “ _Don’t say that out loud jesus what will people think._ ” He hangs up.

               “Well?” asks Gansey. “Is he coming?”

               Adam shakes his head, smiles out the window. “Yeah.”

 

Blue gives Adam a tight hug, smiles at him but only says, “Yay,” softly, under her breath. He can’t help but smile back. It’s Blue’s superpower.

               Inside they wait for Ronan, lounging in their booth, Blue complaining about school, Gansey frowning in concentration at her story. Adam wonders if it’s practised, wonders how much of Gansey’s easy charm, ease in love, is practised. Whether anyone else feels so untethered.

               Ronan appears next to Adam, bumping his hips to get him to budge up. Adam looks at him, and there’s no call for shyness – this isn’t new anymore – but despite that ducks his head as his smiles, plays with his napkin. Is grateful when Ronan slings an easy arm round his shoulder, kissing the side of his head, turning to Gansey and Blue for conversation.

               A menu appears in front of him and he pushes forward through light branches, can’t bear to look at anything but the ground beneath his feet, shoes sliding slickly through wet leaves.

               While Gansey and Blue fall into their usual argument about fruit on pizza – _avocado is a_ fruit _not a vegetable, what do they even teach you_ _– regardless I don't see why that means I can't have it on pizza Jane, why do you deny me the things I love –_ Adam nudges Ronan gently to get his attention. Says quietly, “Hey do you wanna share something?”

               Ronan looks up, raises an eyebrow at him. “No,” he says, not as quietly, “I have been looking forward to this pizza all fucking day, get your own.”

               Gansey looks up at that, watching Adam carefully. Adam manages a smile. “You mean since we made plans half an hour ago.

               “Do you think they’ll do three halves.”

               Blue glares at him. “Remember when you’re ordering that you’re not actually funny.”

               Adam lets them argue, pretends to consider the menu which he knows off by heart. Feels Gansey’s eyes on him like a sunbeam.

               Ronan’s forgotten. Not that there’s anything to remember. Not that Adam wants him to remember. Ronan hasn’t been at Adam’s side for the last two months. But Gansey has.

               Gansey says, “Parrish, how do you feel about avocado?”

               Adam looks up gratefully, thinks he’s being saved. But when the waiter comes Gansey orders two avocado and sausage pizzas. Adam looks out the window. Leaves don’t come to him. _It’s just food_. _Ronan’s here_. _Ronan’s here for fuck’s sake. Why am I_

Adam draws himself up. There’s never been a challenge before he couldn’t face and he knows this is fucking stupid. Smirks at himself, almost laughs, turns his whole body towards his friends, snakes a hand round Ronan’s waist, gets another kiss on his forehead, tilts his face up for a proper kiss.

               “Ok can we go back to you two being broken up?” Blue votes, one hand in the air. Ronan throws a packet of ketchup at her, and then picks up the pepper but Adam catches him in time.

               “ _No_ ,” Gansey says, holding Blue’s hands similarly, “Too much effort. Remind me to only befriend couples in the future, it’s twice the reward for half the work. Well…” he adds, trailing off.

               “Are you saying we’re hard work or no reward? I’m fucking offended,” Ronan says.

               In his head, Adam is wondering how many slices he should eat. He wants to be normal, wants this to be no effort, wants Gansey to stop looking at him like that, but it’s not like he wants to undo the progress he’s made. Has noticed Ronan’s firm grip at his waist, feels pleased at the difference a couple of months has made and doesn’t want to ruin it. Thinks that’s a fair compromise. Sits cross-legged on the ground and leans his back against a broad trunk, lets sunlight hit his face. Reasonable.

               He decides on three, and makes them last as long as possible, chewing almost constantly so that no one can accuse him of not eating. He’s not really hungry – Ronan had made them eggs and bacon for breakfast that morning. Though they’d only got half way through when Adam had stood up to get a glass of water, and Ronan had appeared at Adam’s back, fingers linking through Adam’s, lips on his neck, breakfast forgotten.

               Gansey has been trying to make eye contact with Adam, but Adam’s laughing at something Blue just said, and then Ronan steals a slice off Adam’s plate, and Gansey lets out a tight breath.

               “Parrish, let’s go,” Ronan whispers into his ear and Adam shrugs, “Sure, whatever”, “Or I could just go home and _imagine_ you –” Adam stands up abruptly. “See you,” he says to Gansey and Blue with no explanation, dragging Ronan after him.

               Ronan pushes Adam against the BMW, but it’s gentle, Ronan’s hands at his waist and kissing him slowly between quiet words.

               “ _Hey.”_

               “Hey.”

               “Barns?”

               “My car’s at Aglionby.”

               “So that Shitbox is gonna ruin both our lives.”

               “Not if you drive me to school tomorrow.”

               “Ah, Parrish – I knew that education must be good for something.”

               At the Barns Adam remembers that they need to talk but Ronan pushes him into his mattress and Adam is so tired of thinking.

 

Gansey lasts a week. It’s probably not for lack of trying, as Adam has been avoiding him at lunch. Scheduled study sessions, or had books to return at the library, or hides in the guidance counsellor’s office, letting her words float through him unharmed. Spends the weekend catching up on work, on homework, on Ronan.

               It’s so easy to fall back into things. Ronan cooks them food and Adam eats most of it, his attention caught by Ronan talking, Ronan laughing, Ronan kissing his hand. They watch a movie and everything about this is familiar. Ronan, sceptical face captured by the screen, Adam’s face mostly angled towards Ronan’s, and half way through Adam pushing Ronan into the cushion, pushing thought down. It’s the perfect time to talk, but Adam figures they have time for that. He needs this like he needs oxygen, has months of shallow breathing to make up for.

               Gansey follows Adam out of the classroom, and puts a hand on his elbow, not hard, but with no room to question, guides him towards the cafeteria. Raises an eyebrow at him. Sighs and looks away. Adam rolls his eyes, elbows Gansey and walks ahead of him to the lunch queue.

               It’s not like he doesn’t eat. Gansey is a drama queen. Everyone knows that.

               Adam and Gansey have lunch together, and that evening he skips dinner.

 

Some days are better than others. Some days he manages three small meals, or two large ones. He works around his friends’ schedules, skipping where he can. Doesn’t think about it much. Briefly acknowledges satisfaction when he manages to skip a meal, like solving a hard math problem, but it’s become routine, and he’s too busy thinking about his Ronan-problem.

               The problem is they’ve been back together a couple of weeks, and Ronan hasn’t brought it up either.

               At the weekend Adam gets into the front of the BMW, kisses Ronan, smiles at him. “Where are we meeting them?” he asks.

               “Harrys,” Ronan replies. He starts the engine, pulls away, shifts gears. “That ok?” he asks when Adam hasn’t replied.

               Adam shrugs. “It’s not where I’d have chosen,” he says honestly. “Why Harrys?”

               “Gansey suggested it,” and Adam bristles. “Why do you care?”

               “I had a big lunch.”

               “Suck it up,” Ronan suggests helpfully, and Adam stares out the window. He walks through the forest, but nothing’s familiar and the leaves beneath his shoes don’t crunch like they should, the bark is textureless and he can’t make any of it real.

               Ronan parks at Harrys and opens his door, but he looks at Adam, a question on his face, and Adam shrugs, finding comfort in their silent communication, shakes his head and gets out the car.

               They arrive before the others. Ronan sits against the corner of the booth and raises suggestive eyebrows at Adam, but Adam mutters, “Bathroom,” and when he’s there he leans a forehead against the mirror. _Get it together for fuck’s sake._

               By the time he comes out everyone’s arrived, and he still can’t decide what to do. _It’s just food. It’s just food. But then you won’t have achieved anything today. They’ll notice. Don’t ruin it._

He sits next to Ronan and grabs his hand.

               “I’m going on strike,” Gansey announces.

               Ronan plays with Adam’s fingers, brings them to his mouth, kisses them softly.

               “Against what?” says Henry.

               Adam leans against Ronan’s side.

               “Yogurt,” he says, and Blue splutters into her drink.

               Ronan lifts his arm and puts it around Adam’s shoulders.

_Don’t fuck it up._

               “Since when are you against yogurt?” she asks.

               Ronan looks out the window, free hand drumming lightly on the table.

               “Since I found two half-eaten yogurts under my bed this morning.”

               Adam’s heart beats in time to Ronan’s drumming, Ronan’s other hand tapping a pulse into his palm.

_Don’t fuck it up._

               And then Henry rolls his eyes loudly and turns to Adam. “Adam,” he says, and his face is amused, “please save me from the most boring argument I’ve ever had to listen to.”

               Adam smiles at him. But he doesn’t say anything. He’s concentrating on being still, his body half-slumped against Ronan’s firm body, against firm trunk and scratching bark.

               “Did you decide yet?”

               Adam raises an eyebrow.

               “Decide what?” asks Ronan.

               “On colleges.”

               Oh.

               Ronan hands still. The forest floor sinks slowly away from Adam, deposits him on leather and body. Everything is hot and itchy. He puts everything he has into not moving, not reacting; feels Ronan’s grip tighten on his hand.

               “No,” he admits, careful. At that Gansey looks up from where’s he’s been bickering with Blue, and Adam notices the frown that moves from him to Ronan.

               “Isn’t the deadline coming up?” Henry asks.

               Adam’s mind is whirring and nothing is balanced and thoughts spill from corners and he can’t see the trees for the chaos and he takes a deep breath against the anger that he feels rising up through his body. “No," he lies.

               “I thought –” Henry begins.

               “Look will you just fucking leave it?”

               At that everything goes quiet and Adam realises he’s jerked away from Ronan, frowning at the table. When he sees that someone put a menu in front of him he shoves it towards Gansey, looks away from everyone. Wishes they’d all stop looking at him.

               “Parrish,” Ronan starts, but then the waitress appears.

               “What can I get for y’all?” she asks brightly.

               When Henry and Blue have ordered, Ronan quiet and fixing Adam with a look he’s not acknowledging, Gansey says, “Three sundaes,” and the waitress leaves.

               Adam glares at Gansey. “Hungry?” he asks, voice dripping with accusation.

               “What, you didn’t want anything? You should have said,” Gansey says slowly, but his eyes are drilling a challenge into Adam’s.

               “I’m not hungry,” Adam says. “You don’t just get to order for me without asking.”

               “What’s the big deal?” asks Ronan. It’s so rare to hear him ask such a genuine, vulnerable question – nothing cloaked in sarcasm or masked with venom – that for a second no one replies.

               Henry looks at Gansey, who’s still frowning at Adam, then at Adam who’s staring at his clenched fingers on the table, then turns to Ronan. “Oh nothing except while you were off being the world’s biggest asshole Parrish decided to develop an eating disorder.”

               It’s like he’s been slapped. Like the words have broken a spell. Everyone stills. It’s like they know how empty he feels without Cabeswater. Like they know and want him to feel worse. Like they know the pathetic forest he conjured up in his mind isn’t anything next to Ronan’s dreams. Like they know he isn’t anything next to Ronan. Like a knife is twisting in his gut.

               “What the _fuck_?” Adam finally says, and he ignores the way Ronan has sat up in his seat, arm falling to his side.

               Henry shrugs. “Sorry Parrish but he needs to know.”

               “That’s – you don’t know what you’re talking about –”

               “I do, actually,” says Henry. And Adam doesn’t know what to say to that.

               Turns his venom on Gansey instead. Manages to keep his voice steady as he says, “Leave me the fuck alone, alright?”

               Gansey shakes his head. “No. I’m sorry that you feel we’re overreacting, but I think that we need to say something now before it goes too far.”

               “Look this isn’t fucking funny,” Ronan says, leaning forwards. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

               Adam can’t see the canopy, vision blurred by fire and rage and _for fuck’s sake will everyone leave me alone._ But he takes a breath, one hand curling into a fist under the table, turns to Ronan without looking at him. “I don’t know what they’re talking about. Can we just go?”

               But Ronan shakes his head. “Gansey,” he says, like it’s a statement, and Adam turns to leave, but Ronan’s hand reaches out to clasp his wrist.

               To Adam’s surprise when Gansey looks at Ronan he’s even angrier than before. “Maybe if you actually talked to him you’d know.”

               “ _Gansey_ ,” Adam starts, horrified, but his brain has gone foggy. He remembers his father like a punch to the head, remembers the feeling of being powerless and still on the ground by the trailer as Ronan and Robert Parrish fought, remembers wanting to move and simply being unable to. His mind races but his body betrays him, caught in a panic that hurtles through him; he feels sick, wondering if he’s going to throw up. Doesn’t remember whether he’s eaten anything that day.

               No one has spoken, but eventually Blue pipes up, “Adam, you know we love you right?”

               And he’s had enough. Wrenches his wrist from Ronan, storms out of the diner, is half way across the parking lot before Ronan catches up to him, “Parrish, _wait,_ ” places a hand on Adam’s arm.

               Adam whirls round. “Leave me alone.”

               But he’s finally looking at Ronan, and he’s convinced he can feel raindrops on his skin. It’s just his thoughts, processing Ronan’s expression, dampening the anger as quickly as it came.

               Ronan doesn’t look angry, or judgemental, or sarcastic; he’s frowning, his eyes burning with intensity into Adam, but his lips are small and his jaw moves uncertainly. He’s hurt. The breath is knocked out of Adam.

               “Where are you going?” is all he asks.

               Adam looks away. Puts his hands in his pockets. “They’re being assholes,” is all he replies.

               Ronan puts another hand on Adam’s arm, more tentative this time. Adam doesn’t shrug it off. “Ok,” is all Ronan says. “But I’m not.”

               Adam stares at the ground, lets Ronan draw him in, one hand going round his back. Adam leans against Ronan, feels tears prick at his eyes. “They’re overreacting,” he says quietly.

               Ronan’s other hand starts picking its way through Adam’s hair, stroking down his neck and back up again. “Ok,” he says again. “But you’re gonna have to tell me what they’re overreacting to.”

               Adam considers his words, lets the rhythm of Ronan’s hand working back and forth over his head steady his breathing. “I’ve… I guess I’ve been eating less.”

               After a second he feels Ronan nod. “Ok,” he says, and then they just stand there for a while, and Adam clings to Ronan and he knows he’s fucked up.

               He’s about to say so when Ronan sighs, heavy, unfiltered, breath catching half way through, and Adam moves a step back and looks up. Ronan’s eyes are shut and his head is bowed slightly. “Ah fuck,” Ronan says.

               “What?”

               Ronan opens his eyes, smiles like he thinks the universal usage for smiling is _nothing is ok_. “I’ve fucked up.” Adam is so surprised he doesn’t know what to say, just frowns at Ronan, waiting. Ronan removes his hands from Adam, runs one over his head. “Everything’s been so crazy,” he said. “It’s like when we first… I’ve just been so…” He looks away, scowling. “I’m sorry we haven’t really talked. We obviously should. Not just about this… About everything. About how – god – how much of an asshole I am. About what college you want to go to. About how much I fucking love you. But I’m a coward. You don’t deserve that.”

               Adam brings one hand up to where Ronan’s is scraping over his head. Catches it in his own, lowers them both. “Ok,” he says. Ronan meets his eyes. The look Ronan gives him is everything, and Adam begins rebuilding his forest. He takes a deep breath. “I want to talk about college. I want you to help me decide. It’ll be Harvard or MIT and it’ll be really far away and I can’t bear thinking about it while I’m with you because I love you and it sucks.”

               Ronan squeezes his hand. Nods. “Ok,” he says. “Show me your pro con list sometime and if it doesn’t have _distance from Chainsaw_ somewhere on there she’ll be hurt.”

               Adam smirks, some tension releasing in him. He plants another tree. “I… haven’t really been eating,” he says tentatively, letting out a breath.

               “That sounds dumb,” says Ronan, but he says it cautiously, like he’s talking to an unknown creature.

               Adam considers it. “I guess it probably is,” he says, but he knows it won’t be as simple as that. “I…” He blows out a breath, looks at the ground, lets Ronan’s hand pull him back in, feels Ronan kiss his head.

               “I’m not stupid,” Ronan says. “I know I can’t fix this for you. But just start talking to me again, ok?”

               Adam breathes out into Ronan’s shoulder. “Ok.”

               Ronan’s hand traces constellations into Adam’s back and Adam leans against him, lets the weight of Ronan hold him steady, feels damp leaves and soft grass under his back, presses one palm flat between Ronan’s shoulder blades, imagines dancing tattoos and a future where he tells Ronan everything, where Ronan loves him and he can breathe, where he comes back, and it feels like bark under fingertips.

               Adam breathes in.

**Author's Note:**

> here's the thing - this isn't as resolutiony as i wanted it to be, but i'm also a stickler for realism and these things don't just go away. all we can do is take the first step. stuff taken from experience, so please be kind. hope you enjoyed, but let's be honest it was sad so you probably didn't, but angst is my home this is where i live. yell at me in the comments xxx


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